


Come Back (as pure as gold)

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Ten Years On [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Bittersweet, Gen, Let's not fool around here, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Ten Years Later, Time Travel, Tumblr prompt turned universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10025414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: When Shiro steps out of his lion after the final battle with Zarkon, something is off.Seems like he missed something.  Ten years of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look who gave into fanfic title cliches. It's me. I did it.
> 
> Big shout out to Eastofthemoon for the origin of this idea. Sorry it took me almost a month to fill it, but now you see why

Immediately after stepping out of the Black Lion, something felt wrong.

Something was different.

Shiro stood in place, helmet on his hip until it clicked.  

The hangar was rearranged.

Not that it had a lot of things in it already, but there was some equipment on the walls and shelving, and it was either switched out or moved around.

An odd thing to do, while he was flying around distracting Zarkon.  Shiro found himself a little irritated at the idea - he was the one who used those tools most, after all, and someone else messing with them made him antsy.  But he shook that off.  It wasn’t like Shiro owned any of it, and Allura and Coran had every right to move it around as they pleased.

That settled, Shiro walked back out, head tilted.  Was he the first one back, somehow?  He didn’t remember anything after passing out during that battle until he woke up in the Black Lion, hungry and cold but otherwise intact.  Maybe Black had flown him back and he had just woken quickly?  

Shiro put his helmet back on, listening for the inevitable post-battle chatter, at least from Allura and Coran.

Nothing.

Maybe it had been damaged in the fight?

Worry started to bubble in Shiro, no matter how many reasonable explanations he had.  Something just felt weird.  Even the hallway was off, in a way that he couldn’t put his finger on.  Brighter, maybe.  Better lit.  The blue lights seemed to be stronger now, like they’d been running on less power until now.  Which didn’t make  _ sense. _

Then he heard voices.

“Did you leave the door open?”

“Did I- am I five?  Of course I didn’t.  I never leave that door open.”

“I don’t see how else someone got inside, then.  They were messing with Black, too.”

The voices were familiar, but they weren’t right.

Like everything else in this place.

Shiro cast a glance around, looking for the best way to defend himself, but whoever was speaking came around the corner and he was too late.  Instead he snapped into a battle stance.  Whoever these beings were, they didn’t belong in the castle.

Four people - four humans, even - looked down the hall at him and froze.

At first, Shiro didn’t recognized them.  Individually, he didn’t know them.  

But he knew them in pattern.

It was his team.  Except it wasn’t, because all of them were older.  Significantly. Their clothes were different and their faces were longer and their hair had changed and  _ nothing was right. _

Shiro dropped his arm, staring back in equally stunned silence.

What.  The.   _ Hell. _

***   
“We have to be sure,” Allura told the others, arms crossed.  She, at least, looked similar.  Whatever aging the humans had gone through didn’t have nearly the same effect on her.  She was wearing different clothes and her hair was shorter, but other than that it was still Allura.

Shiro might have latched onto that, except for the deep distrust she watched him with.

And he couldn’t blame her, because Shiro had been gone for  _ 10 years. _

The enormity of that hadn’t fully settled yet.  There was some layer of disconnect, like how he got after a particularly bad nightmare.  That the world wasn’t real, and Shiro was just following along as everything was acted out around him.

He had enough of a grasp of his psychology to recognize it probably wasn’t healthy, but Shiro wasn’t particularly up to fighting.

“It’s Shiro,” Keith replied flatly, arms crossed.  When he did that, Shiro could see scars over his forearms, old cuts and wounds that Shiro hadn’t been there for.

Assuming this was all real.  Shiro wasn’t sure he wasn’t having a really strange dream, or maybe someone was using one of those ‘mental landscape’ type things the Blade of Marmora used.

Allura frowned Keith, and seemed to be taking him at his word.  “How can you be certain?”

“I know Shiro.”

“It’s been ten years,” Lance offered, tone sympathetic but eyes sharp.  He looked Shiro over carefully, and there was caution to his posture that hurt to see.  They’d been hurt before.  They’d all been betrayed and attacked and Shiro  _ hadn’t been there. _  “We all loved Shiro, but memories fade.”

Shiro tried not to wince at the past tense.

Pidge leaned in closer, scanning something down Shiro’s side.  Data flashed over her green visor, which had apparently replaced her glasses.  “Why now?”  She asked.  “It’s not- today’s not the anniversary or something, is it?”

There was a pause as Hunk checked.  “No, it isn’t.  Do you think it should be?”

“It’d be weirder if it was,” Shiro offered, and everyone froze like they’d forgotten he could talk.  Which was fair.  Shiro hadn’t said much of anything since he’d gotten the elevator pitch version of what happened.  “Why would I reappear exactly ten orbits of a planet around a sun that’s far from here?  I mean, by that logic, every day is probably some planet’s ten year anniversary.  Infinite chances and all that.”

Hunk chuckled, and it was the first time Shiro felt like someone was engaging him and not the situation since they’d found him.  “He’s got a point.”

“I’m not picking up anything weird,” Pidge offered, settling back.  She took off her helmet, and Shiro could see her undercut again.  Noticing his gaze, she ran a hand through the buzz on the side and offered a little shrug, almost shy.

It had been because of him, probably.  In honor of his memory.

Was Pidge older than him, now?

The haze of shock deepened.

“What do you need to do?” Shiro finally asked Allura, meeting her gaze steadily.  “I’m happy to go through with it.”

Allura met his gaze steadily, but there was a hint of sadness to it.  “I’ll connect to you, and I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

Connect?  Shiro tilted his head until Allura hold up on of her hands.  It it up with pink, crackling energy, and the smell of heat and ozone and  _ magic _ filled Shiro’s senses.

It was exactly like Haggar, except for the color.

Shiro jolted instinctively, bucking to his feet and backpedaling passed the chair.  But Hunk moved to block him, keeping him from running out.  “Hey, woah there!  What’s wrong?”

There was a hissed intake of breath and Lance finally pushed off the wall, the caution melting into concern.  “Haggar.  For him it’s been months.  Did he ever see-?”

“I didn’t know until after that battle,” Allura replied slowly, her hand dropping. “Oh, Shiro, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t think of it.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Shiro stepped away from the too old version of Hunk, with his lack of headband and longer hair.  “I’m fine.  I just wasn’t expecting it.”  Despite his words, there was a shiver running through him that felt like it came from inside his chest.  Glancing up, he swallowed hard.   “What if I’m not lying but I’m still fake?” He asked, eyes tracking over to Allura.  It would certainly explain the haze of his head, the way he felt like a newborn foal, barely managing to stand.  “What if I just don’t know?”

“I’ll be able to tell that as well,” Allura replied, and her voice gentled into something near melodic.  “I’ll be tracking the flow of your thoughts, and I’ll be able to detect disturbances.  This could mean a lie, but it could also be where your memories don’t line up correctly.  Not where you’ve forgotten, but the act of implanting memories is... messy.  It won’t be so simple.  It would be disorder.”

Shiro would have to take Allura’s word on that, because all of Shiro’s head felt like disorder.

“Can we try something else?  Like a polygraph?” Lance offered, and the change of tune made Shiro glance at him.  He was staring at Shiro like the sun was dawning.  Somehow, he was convinced.

Shiro wasn’t sure why.  He didn’t feel like he was convincing himself, honestly.

Pidge considered, glancing at Hunk.  “Well,” she offered.  “Sure, we could build one.  But they’re not exactly foolproof.  Honestly, look at him.  His heart rate is probably off the charts already.  We’re not going to get a good baseline, putting aside everything else.”

“We could try it first,” Hunk offered, and he put a heavy hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  “There’s been enough shocks today.”

Keith drew himself up, and Shiro’s breath left him in one go, because that looked like the leader he’d seen in Keith recently and before, back at the Galaxy Garrison.

Except it wasn’t just Keith.  They  _ all _ had that air of quiet competence, that they could work with what they had and take it to victory.

Shiro’s head hurt.

“I’m willing to accept the consequences,” Keith offered.  “That’s Shiro.  He’s  _ Shiro.” _

Allura only looked grim and sad.

So Shiro stepped forward, hands clenched tightly at his side.  “Just go ahead with it now.  It’s better to be sure.  And I’d rather not have it hanging over my head, if I’m being honest.”

“Are you sure?” Allura asked, back to that careful, gentle tone.  The one that sounded like she was talking to a skittish animal.  “It’s necessary, I believe, but it can wait for you to collect yourself.”

Shiro barked out a laugh, loud enough that everyone in the room jumped, the same way Shiro would have if the noise hadn’t come from him.  

Ten years of battle would do that, no doubt.

“Do you have another ten years to wait?” Shiro asked, going for joking and falling far, far flat.  “Ten minutes isn’t going to do me any good.  Just do it.”

Keith stepped closer, hovering protectively at Shiro’s side.  The gesture was familiar, and Shiro resisted the sudden urge to lean against him.  Somehow, it was a comfort that Keith hadn’t managed to grow much taller, despite how he’d filled out.  Even if he looked different, it wasn’t  _ that _ different. Keith didn’t say anything, but his glare spoke volumes about his opinion of this idea.

“Shiro’s back for ten minutes and he’s already back into old, grumpy habits,” Lance stage-whispered.  “It’s like old times.”

“He did get protective pretty fast, didn’t he?” Hunk replied, tone conspiratorial.  “Like, bam.”

Pidge snorted at them both. “Because you two are totally acting like mature, nearly 30 year old adults right now.”

Finally, some of the tension started to leak from Shiro’s shoulders.   He caught Keith’s eye with a hint of a smile, then peered over his shoulder.  “Lance!” He barked, the exact tone he usually did when Lance was running off to try and flirt.

Lance straightened up instantly, his shoulders set and unslumping.  Then he caught himself, eyes wide.  “Well damn.”

Okay, not everything had changed.  That particular leftover was pretty damn gratifying.

When Shiro met Keith’s eyes again, his expression was soft and nearly misty.

Shiro looked away quickly, nodding to Allura.  “I’d like to get this done.”

Allura smiled, her hand raising.  Shiro tensed but didn’t move away.  “I don’t believe there’s anything to find,” she admitted.  “But I’d rather check.”

“I rather you would, too.  I don’t trust this myself.”

With a nod, Allura rested her hand on where Shiro’s neck met his shoulders.  He had just enough time for one wild thought -  _ was he about to get Vulcan neck pinched? _ \- before it crackled again, and his mind  _ jolted. _

Shiro was vaguely, distantly aware of Allura asking him questions and his mouth answering, but neither of them were paying attention to what he said.  Instead, Shiro could see the wild, raging flow of his thoughts, leaking and churning and twisting like the space right outside a black hole, strained and pulled, distorted and cracked.  Spaghettification, the result of gravity too strong, pulling the thoughts apart to hair thin lines.

He thought  _ this can’t be me. _

Then, the crackle died, and so did the pain he hadn’t been registering.  Shiro stumbled, but there were hands on him, thin and strong, thick and steady, small and clever, shifting and adaptable, keeping him up.

“It’s all him,” Allura said, and her smile was blinding.  “Just him and all of him.”

That was his mind?  That was  _ his _ mind?

The door opened behind them, and Shiro tried to turn to look, but his world tilted and the hands on him tightened to catch him.  Okay, moving was a bad idea.

“Is it true?  Takashi is...?” Someone asked, their voice familiar but not right, and Shiro’s mind was still twisted, still thin, still twirling together to a single point, a singularity of his thoughts, crossing some event horizon, a cliff he hadn’t seen but shot over, or maybe the one he sent himself and Keith down to practice tricks.

...What had he been thinking, again?

Someone stepped into his field of vision, and Shiro offered Coran - just Coran, nothing different, stable, amazing Coran - a smile.  

He got one in return.  “Ah, seems we got Number One back, did we?  Well, maybe not anymore, I believe Hunk is taller now.”

Shiro blinked, and the movement felt too slow.  Or maybe that was just because there were spots in his vision, making him feel like his eyes were still closing.  “Make it so,” he muttered, and his voice sounded drunk to his own ears.

Then the spots overtook him, and there were cries of alarm, but Shiro was falling into the black hole and then he was gone.

***

Sitting up slowly, Shiro rubbed at the aching point of his shoulder, where Allura’s magic had touched him.

He remembered everything almost immediately, and part of him wished he hadn’t.  A few seconds of thinking life was normal would have been nice.

“Hey,” someone said, and Shiro jolted and looked at Lance, eyes wide.  “About time you woke up.  Then again, you haven’t had a sleep in for ten years, so maybe you’ve earned it.”

Shiro stared for a moment, then slumped back against the wall.  Lance was only a few feet away in a chair by the foot of the bed, and now Shiro had the opportunity to really look.  There was a scar on his face, from forehead and through the tip of his eyebrow, just barely missing the corner of his eye to curve around to his cheek to the corner of his lips.

A terrifying wound for a marksman.  And one Shiro hadn’t been there for.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

“For the sleep in?  Eh, we’ll get work out of you yet, lazy bones.  Besides, I think we can chalk that one up to Allura anyway, her magic’s not exactly graceful.”  But then Lance paused thoughtfully.  “Or do you mean for something else?  If it’s about disappearing, you couldn’t exactly help that.”

Shiro didn’t even know where to start, so he just closed his eyes and shrugged.

Ten years of fighting.  Ten years of struggle.

He’d never meant to sign them up for this.  He desperately, achingly wanted that fight with Zarkon to be the end.  Not because Shiro cared to go home - Earth was nice, but it was such a distant memory it felt like a dream, half the time.  It didn’t feel like reality.  It was because he’d wanted  _ them _ to go, to finish school and graduate, to live the lives they’d wanted.

Nine years later, scared and wounded, his paladins were...

They were like Shiro.

He’d never wanted that for them.

“Hey.”  Lance moved over, sitting down on the edge of Shiro’s bed.  The bed.  This wasn’t his room.  Or maybe it had been, and it had just been cleaned out.  “I know you were never a big fan of this, but how about you talk to us?  We’re not kids for you to protect anymore, you know.”

Yeah.  Yeah he knew.

The rub was that Shiro  _ missed _ those kids, even if they were only a few years younger.

“Just getting used to the idea,” Shiro replied.  “I didn’t really think ahead to what the future would be like. Not beyond...”  Not beyond Zarkon.  Not beyond the next few weeks, maybe months if he was lucky.  Shiro wasn’t made to survive this conflict.  He was how the Galra made him, and he hadn’t really thought about the after.

Yet here he was, and they were still fighting, so maybe he’d just been an idiot.

“Not beyond one step at a time?  Yeah, I know the feeling.  There was a lot time where we- you just disappeared you know.  Not a trace.  So for months - a year, really - we went through each mission like it was the last before you came back and everything went back to normal.  And that’s not... you don’t make good decisions like that, sometimes.  You rush things.”  Lance shot him a sideways look.  “Not that you had any other choice.  Keith was the only one you knew could fly the Black Lion, right?”

Shiro froze.  “Has that changed?”

“No,” Lance replied casually.  “Well, I mean, maybe.  Allura can, and Hunk managed it once.  Mostly we leave it to Keith.  But that doesn’t- what we knew, then, was that the Black Paladin was in charge and that was that.  No exceptions.  Except, like, why?  ‘Cause they’re the head?  None of us  _ felt _ like it.  And when Allura was in charge it felt so weird, especially at first.  So we figured, you know what?  We need to do this our way.  We’re not the head, we’re the four limbs, and each of us has something we do.”  Lance shot him a grin, the one Shiro knew from him.  Impish.  “So no one’s really you.  It’s for the best, we were all shit at it.  So instead each of us leads when the mission calls for it.  Makes it easier to split up, too.”

That was...

Specialization.  It was such an  _ obvious _ choice.  But Shiro hadn’t thought about it, so preoccupied in making things work before he was gone.   

“You did well,” Shiro offered.  At Lance’s startled look, he straightened and focused, sitting up properly.  “I am.  That was a good solution.  I’m glad you made it work.  It had to be hard, not knowing if I was alive.  And you’ve done well.  You’re all around and in one piece.  That’s better than I can say for myself.”

Lance eyed him.  “See, I know you’re joking.  But you may not want to say things like that if you don’t want to get mauled with flying hugs.  Seriously, now that we know it’s you?  It was a pain in the ass dragging everyone away.  But Hunk and Pidge have their projects, and Keith already hadn’t slept in awhile, so I kicked them out and promised I’d keep an eye on you.  And that was only after we got Sam to stop fussing.  He’s going to do that, by the way.  A lot.  Let him get it out.”

Blinking slowly, Shiro frowned.  “Sam?”  Did they know a Sam?  

After a moment, Lance cracked a smile.  “Shit.  You- Commander Holt, to you.  You’re better off calling him Sam, though.  And Matt, too.  He just got back, actually.  Pidge is probably telling him now.”

Blood rushed past Shiro’s ears.

Matt and Commander Holt.  Alive and well.  Rescued and at the castle.

And they’d thought he was dead.

“Woah, there, don’t pass out on us again.  We just got you up, they’ll kill me if I send you back down.”  Lance reached over, resting a steady hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  “We’ll do introductions a little at a time, alright?  If nothing else, it’ll limit your exposure to Matt’s Matt-ness.  Only a good thing.”

The fact that Lance knew what Matt’s Matt-ness was like...

Closing his eyes, Shiro took a deep breath and ducked his head.  He wasn’t going to cry.  There was no need.  Especially not in front of-

Hah.  Old habits died hard.

“Do you need a minute?” Lance asked, painfully soft.  “I know you were- are a reserved kinda guy, but you know you don’t have to hide, okay?  But if you need a minute you’ve got it.  Seriously, ask for anything, we’ll give you the moon.  You’ve got no idea, Shiro.  You were missed.”

Something gave.

Tears forced their way out and Shiro curled in further, legs coming up to hide his face.  “I’m sorry,” he managed, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.  “I didn’t mean to leave.  I didn’t want to.  I wanted you all to go home and be okay.”

“Ah, Shiro.”  Lance moved over, pulling him into a hug.  “God, you’re  _ young, _ aren’t you?  Man, it’s weird that you’re the young’un now.  You didn’t mean to, like you said.  It’s okay.  We’re not mad at you for leaving, and nothing about it was your fault, alright?  Everything that’s happened to us... it’s not on you.  And we survived because of what you taught us.  We survived to be older than you.”  He paused.  “That’s weird too.  Damn. Space, man.”

Choking out a laugh, Shiro nodded against Lance’s shoulder.  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.  “I don’t really understand.  Everything’s so different.  I can’t take back over, I don’t know how to.  There’s so much, and I can’t take someone’s command.  You deserve it.”

Lance paused, his hand heavy on Shiro’s back.  “Screw all that.  Shiro, what do you  _ want? _ ”

Good fucking question.

Shiro had no idea.

Maybe it was time to figure that out.

**Author's Note:**

> Looking for more from this fic? Check out the [tumblr tag](http://bosstoaster.tumblr.com/tagged/Ten-Years-On) or just follow me. There's more where this came from, now.


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